Some Enchanted Evening
by Anne Vermillion
Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate the rape of an evangelist's daughter. This is a crossover, but not with another show. This is also a work in progress. Feel free to review! Constructive criticsm is welcome, meaning tell me -why- you hated or liked it :)
1. Default

Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully aren't mine, they belong to Chris Carter and FOX. All other characters are mine mine mine, please don't use without permission.   
  
Please read and review! And by review I mean let me know WHY you hated or liked it, not just that you hated or liked it. Anything you say will help me improve :)  
  
*****  
Some Enchanted Evening  
  
by AnneV  
*****  
  
Her hips surged up to meet his thrusts, the bedsprings creaking sinfully with their rhythmic movements. He moaned atop her, and she echoed him in a primal harmony. She clung to him as they rode their passion into the night, gasping, clutching, wet, wild.  
  
What was she doing here? Why had she come with him, to this unfamiliar place, so far from home? She didn't know, but the music had been so loud, and his kisses so sweet and his voice so beautiful...The next thing she knew the wind was in her hair and they were driving through the desert, their laughter echoing behind them.  
  
Then they had stopped, at this cheap motel, all flashing neon and hourly rates. There had been wine, laughter, his hands were so gentle, then deliciously rough. The stab of pain when he entered her was nothing compared to the pleasure that followed, and she reveled in it, writhing under him with ecstatic abandon.  
  
"What would your daddy think now, hm?" He laughed into her ear, his voice low and rough. "The good Reverend seeing his little angel like this?"  
  
She should care, she should care....but then he caught her nipple between his fingers and she didn't care anymore so long as he just...didn't...stop....oh god...his lips crushed against hers and she felt the first rush of her orgasm. The thrill was incredible, the first orgasm that she hadn't given herself, her hands dancing under the sheets and her pillow muffling her cries. She opened her eyes, looking up at her lover as she soared over the edge, wanting to savor this moment forever...  
  
And she screamed.  
  
**********  
  
"I do apologize for the delay, Agents. My daughter hasn't been able to sleep since this whole...ordeal, and I just can't wake her right now."  
  
Agent Scully nodded silently as Mulder smiled. "It's quite all right, Reverend, we can wait."  
  
Scully could tell that his statement had been meant as a dismissal, and she saw the Reverend's hands twitch, an annoyed gesture, as if he wasn't used to being defied. Something in the back of her mind enjoyed his discomfiture, despite the situation that prompted their arrival.  
  
The afternoon sun streamed in through the windows of the penthouse suite and set everything a-glitter, from the diamonds on the Reverend's rings to the amber liquid in the tumbler beside him. Scully shifted in her seat and tried to keep the faith that there was something in this vast, gilded, ornately decorated shrine that was small and unassuming and didn't shout to the world, "I have enough money to buy another Pope." Perhaps an ashtray, or a soapdish, or a toothbrush that someone got from a drug store, but she doubted the good Reverend would ever allow such a thing in this carefully crafted scene.  
  
Reverend Elijah Canfield, renowned television evangelist known from the Bible Belt to the Golden Gate for his charisma and charm, had caught the attention of the FBI when his daughter disappeared from a convention here in Las Vegas and reappeared two days later in California, claiming to have been kidnapped. Since she was taken across state lines, it fell under their jurisdiction, and the...distinctive nature of her experience had brought the case to her and Mulder.  
  
Scully shifted again, wishing profoundly that she were elsewhere. The scent of his cologne, a subtle scent that she normally liked, would never be the same to her again, and the almost palpable aura of self-importance that surrounded him turned her stomach. She despised people like him, those who claimed to speak for God, and could offer to whisper to him for everyone...for a price. Everything about the man, from his good ol' boy accent to his Armani suit oozed over everything he touched, a slug trail of conceit. She was more than happy to let Mulder do the talking this time; she didn't know if she could keep her tone steady as she regarded him.  
  
"Now, when your daughter...."  
  
"Christine, please."  
  
Mulder nodded and continued. "When Christine called you from California, she claimed that she'd been assaulted?"  
  
The Reverend's expression hardened. "Do *not* make light of my daughter's trauma, Agent Mulder. Her virtue was *ripped* from her, taken by--"  
  
Mulder held up a quieting hand, taking control of the interview before the Reverend could run away with it. "Christine claimed that she'd been raped, Reverend?" Scully suppressed a smile. Yes or no, Reverend...no sermons this time.  
  
"Yes, Agent Mulder." He shifted in his seat, taking another sip of his drink before setting it back down.  
  
"And that she recognized her attacker?"  
  
He nodded. "She did."  
  
Mulder consulted his notebook again, even though Scully knew that he'd memorized the file on the flight out to Vegas. "She claimed that the attacker was Satan."  
  
Another nod, this time with more conviction. "Precisely, Agent Mulder. The Devil himself."  
  
Without missing a beat, he pressed on. "Do you believe her?"  
  
There was a long pause as he considered his answer. "I believe my daughter was traumatized, and I believe that Satan is capable of taking many forms on this earth." He picked up his drink, gesturing with it before bringing it to his lips. "And I want to catch the bastard who did this to her."  
  
Scully pondered the Reverend's answer as he sipped again. *So many ways to avoid the question, Reverend...of course you're well acquainted with skirting the truth.* She would have asked about the girl's mother, but the file had indicated she had died when Christine was three years old. She tried to picture a little girl growing up in this man's shadow and couldn't, but had no time to try again as Mulder continued.  
  
"Did she mention any other name besides Satan when she told you what happened?" Mulder played dumb so well. "As I understand he has many names."  
  
Ordinarily Mulder's callous treatment of religious issues made her mental hackles rise. She never said anything to him about it; she never needed to. She knew what she believed, and while she had come to believe a lot more during her time with the X-Files, her faith never wavered. No flippant remark from her partner was about to shake it, though apparently his words caused some tremors in the Reverend.  
  
Canfield's eyes darkened, and his mild-mannered facade began to crumble as he set down his drink hard. "MISTER Mulder, I don't think I like your tone." He laced his fingers together over his broad belly, the tips white as he tried to disguise his anger. "I don't think my daughter's *vicious* attack deserves your callous attitude!"  
  
"I don't remember his name."  
  
Mulder and Canfield turned to see the wide blue eyes and sleep-mussed hair of a teenage girl. Scully, who had seen the door open and the girl edge out, spared a moment of resentment that a man of his dubious integrity had fathered a girl like that.  
  
The silver satin pajamas she was wearing made her seem much younger than seventeen. Her light blonde hair tumbled past her shoulders in soft waves, and her fresh-scrubbed face and willowy build all came together to form a pretty girl that was just on the edge of becoming a stunning adult. She watched them all with frightened eyes, saying nothing after her initial statement.  
  
"Christine?" Scully took her cue as Mulder's gaze slid to her for an instant. She put on her gentlest smile as she approached the girl. "My name is Dana Scully....you know why Agent Mulder and I are here?" She nodded silently, and Scully continued. "I'd like to ask you a few questions." The girl said nothing, but she backed out of the doorway, gesturing for her to follow. Scully glanced back at Mulder and the Reverend, then followed the girl into the bedroom as Mulder began talking again.  
  
The bedroom had much the same opulence as the living room, but the occupant didn't seem to care as she curled up on the only chair and began playing with her hair, pulling a thick lock of it in front of her eyes. Scully sat on the bed and regarded her for a moment before breaking the silence. "I know how painful this must be to recall, but I need as much information as you can give me about your attacker."  
  
At the word "attacker", the girl flinched slightly, and Scully saw the barest shake of her head. "I already told the police who he was." She pushed her full lips into a pout, still looking at the lock of hair she twisted around one finger.  
  
Her voice lacked a southern drawl, which further led Scully to believe the Reverend's accent was affected rather than genuine. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind as she watched the girl. "Let's start at the beginning, okay?" She leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. "Where did you meet him?"  
  
Christine didn't look up. "At Daddy's dinner party."  
  
Scully made a note to review the security tapes of the ballroom event. "Did he sit at your table?" Head shake. "When did you meet him?"  
  
"After dinner. When the music started." Her voice had a detached quality that set Scully's mental antennae on alert. Something she'd read not long ago....something about rape victims' reactions to their trauma didn't jive with the girl's demeanor. She kept that at the front of her mind as she continued.  
  
"What did he look like?"  
  
This time she caught the slightest upward twitch of the girl's lips, quickly suppressed as she answered. "He was tall, he had dark hair....hazel eyes....he was older."  
  
She felt her eyebrow rise, and agreed with it. A near-smile was hardly the reaction of someone thinking of the man that raped her.  
  
She stifled her own nod of realization as she considered the situation. A growing girl, an overbearing, domineering father with strong convictions regarding virtue....the pieces were falling into place with a familiarity that was uncanny. She could apply the same description to her younger years. *But I didn't lie about it* she thought, *I didn't put a young man in criminal danger because I was afraid to tell my father.*  
  
"Were you drinking that night?" Scully knew the answer, but wanted to see how the girl would react to the implications.  
  
She was not disappointed; the girl's gaze was icy...and scared? "Everyone was drinking.....I had some champagne." Her expression darkened slightly, and the resemblance to her father's petulant stare was remarkable. "What does that have to do with it?"  
  
Now to give her the hook, the "out" that she would take if she was lying. "Did he get you a drink? He could have drugged you. Use of Rohypnol is common in cases like these."  
  
It was as if she was watching a textbook. In the space of two seconds, she could see the girl considering the suggestion, weighing it against the validity of her original story and the consequences if she added that detail to it. The nod, uncertain at first, gained conviction quickly. "He brought me a glass of champagne, yes." Her eyes were wide. "Do you think....?" The tears welled up quickly, the image of innocence shattered.  
  
Scully wasn't fooled for a second. Time to end this game before the girl dug herself too deep. "I think....that you haven't been truthful with us, Christine."  
  
The girl froze. Even the tear stopped rolling down her cheek. Caught. "You left the party with him willingly, didn't you?"  
  
She had to admit, the girl was good. The fear didn't change, but it still had the discordant ring of lies. "Please don't tell Daddy..." She sniffled. "He gets so mad...sometimes--"  
  
She was not amused. "How about this one....and stop me if I stray from the thread here." She didn't wait for an answer as she continued. "You were at your father's dinner party. You didn't want to go, but you couldn't very well say no. Dry chicken, disgusting gravy, all these people with their hands out, looking for your father's money. You were bored. There was no one there to talk to, and you wanted to leave.  
  
"Then he came along. Tall, dark hair, hazel eyes...older man...he smiled at you, brought you a drink, treated you like an *adult*, instead of Daddy's girl. You danced with him, maybe had a bit more than a glass of champagne. He suggested that you two leave, find somewhere more fun, more private...whatever, and you were only too relieved to say yes."  
  
Christine watched her silently, all pretenses dropped, sullen acquiescence in her gaze. "You left the party, and he suggested a midnight drive. You didn't notice how far you'd gone because of all the champagne, and you were already a little sleepy when he pulled into a motel."  
  
Scully paused, but the girl had nothing to offer, staring at the fringes of her hair. "So, there you were. A little drunk, a lot happy to be doing something that would send your father into a conniption, and things progressed to their logical end."  
  
At this, the girl seemed to jolt out of her sullen reverie, and her eyes widened. "No! No they didn't, that was the thing!"  
  
Scully tilted her head. "You didn't have intercourse with him." She didn't phrase it as a question; the girl had without a doubt had sex that night. The rape kit had revealed that much, though it was the absence of any actual -injury- other than to the girl's hymen had that roused her suspicions.  
  
Christine blew the lock of hair away from her face. "I did, but something happened....when I looked at him, he changed..." *Now* her fear was genuine; she shivered and hugged her arms around herself. Her whisper was loud in the quiet room. "It was the devil, Agent Scully....and I wouldn't lie about that."  
  
Scully paused in the face of the girl's conviction. She had figured that this aspect of the story would crumble as easily as the circumstances. But now the circumstances didn't seem to matter as the girl pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth slightly in the chair.  
  
An internal battle began. Scully knew without a doubt that there was evil in the world as much as there was good. She had seen irrefutable examples of both in her time with the X-Files. She had stared evil in the face, she had seen angels in the night. She had put her life on the line to protect a child that was more holy than a thousand Reverend Canfields. Still, she *had* to find out. "Christine, I know that you're scared, and I know why you lied about the kidnapping, but are you absolutely *sure* of his...identity?"  
  
The girl looked her in the eye, her gaze steady for the first time since she entered the room, and nodded. "It was him....I saw the horns, and his legs....!" She paused, then continued. "I was so scared, but I didn't tell him to stop." She seemed almost incredulous at her own words. "I felt so free with him, like I could do anything if I just let go, you know?" She looked down at her hands. "If I stopped caring what Daddy expected of me and followed my own heart." She gave a brief, choked laugh. "Pretty crazy, huh? Here I am, saying I was raped by the Devil when I loved every minute of it."  
  
Scully said nothing, remembering her own mother's surprise when she showed up at her doorstep in tears, hearing her own broken voice saying how ashamed her father would be, how dependent she had been of his approval, even after his death. There was something else, tickling at the back of her memories, but it faded quickly as Christine went on.  
  
"How was I supposed to tell him what happened? You saw him, the Almighty Elijah Canfield...how would I live after that with him trying to *cleanse* me of my "wanton behavior"?" She said the last in a dead-on imitation of her father. "I finally felt like I had *lived*, and if I tell him now that I liked it, my life will be over before it has the chance to start!" She shook her head, tears beginning to stream down her face.  
  
Scully felt an unexpected pang of sympathy as Christine started to cry. This girl had lived most of her life without a mother, and a father who not only didn't understand women but treated them as saints, expecting nothing less than saintly behavior. She needed someone to tell her it was okay to feel this way, someone who knew about passion restrained and could comfort a guilty conscience....she froze in the act of reaching out for the girl. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't be that person, no matter how familiar this situation seemed. Not if she still wanted to do her job.  
  
"Christine, I know this has been hard for you....but in the interest of what really happened, I need you to tell me the truth about that night." The girl nodded and sniffled, her tears subsiding; she'd figured that much out at least, and seemed to be coming to grips with it. "He did commit a crime, and we are going to find him, but I need you to tell me as much as you can remember. Was there anything he said or did that can help us identify him?"  
  
She scrubbed at her tears, now looking every bit of scared seventeen as she tried to think. "He kept talking about a golden bear....teasing me about worshipping a golden bear instead of a calf....it was so weird...but I was drunk." Her expression was finally earnest as she looked up. "I swear, that's all I remember, that and what I told you."  
  
Scully nodded. Christine had had enough for today, and that last remark had struck a chord. She spoke softly, putting as much sympathy as she could into her voice. "Christine, I can understand how hard this has been, and how hard it's going to be to get through this. What I can tell you is this; wanting to test your wings isn't evil, especially at this point in your life. Wanting to do something that would make your father angry is certainly par for the course of being a teenager." *Trust me* "Still, no matter how much you think you liked it, you *were* a victim of a crime, and it had nothing to do with the devil trying to tempt you away from your path."  
  
Christine listened, wide-eyed, and sucked her lip between her teeth. "Agent Scully? Daddy does say that the Devil is the master of lies..." her hands rubbed at her thighs, as if to scrub away what had happened. "Could he have *made* me like it? Or made me think I liked it?" The look in her eyes was pleading, and again Scully stopped herself from taking her hand.  
  
"Call a rape crisis center, and see if you can talk to a counselor. They can recommend support groups or individual counseling, whichever you prefer." She put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Whatever *did* happen that night....it wasn't your fault, and the counseling will help you put yourself back together."  
  
The girl nodded. "I understand....thank you."  
  
The corners of her mouth inched upward, and for a moment, seeing that sweet smile, Scully could understand any parent wanting to protect their daughter from harm. She'd seen that smile on an even younger girl, and swallowed the lump in her throat as she blinked away Emily's face. She rose, and gave Christine's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It's going to be all right." She smiled down at her, and as she turned to leave, she heard a soft, "I know."  
  
She emerged into the spacious living room, and the Reverend stood at her entrance. "How is she, Agent Scully?"  
  
She spoke to him for the first time since he'd let them in, and now it wasn't hard at all to keep her voice steady. "She's going to be fine, Reverend, but she's been through a lot and is going to need some help getting through this. I've recommended a rape crisis center, and they can help her get into counseling."  
  
He nodded rapidly, and for a moment he looked just as lost as any father would be after a trauma like this touched his family. "Whatever you think is best, she'll get it." He gave a hesitant smile, and Scully returned it without venom; perhaps there was humanity in him after all.  
  
He looked to Mulder, and her partner picked up on the tacit dismissal. "Scully and I are going to review the tapes of the dinner event from last week. We'll inform you when we have any other leads, and please call us if you or your daughter remember anything."  
  
He passed the Reverend a business card, and Canfield tucked it into his breast pocket. "I'll call, Agent Mulder. Thank you both, and I hope that you catch the bastard who has shattered what's left of my family."  
  
Mulder joined her at the door. "We'll do everything we can, Reverend. Good day."  
  
Mulder looked down at her as they exited the suite. "What did you find out with the girl?"  
  
She gave a half-shrug. "Well, the devil may have made her do it, but not in the way you're thinking." She looked at her watch. "Let's go review some of the tapes before dinner. I want to check something out."  
  
Mulder smiled, and she knew exactly what was coming. "Can I have an amen for the marvels of security video!"  
  
**********  
  
Reverend Canfield ordered up some dinner for Christine. "I'm just going to stay in tonight and watch TV," she'd said, and he'd left her alone. He looked at the trashy tabloid that now graced the coffee table.  
  
REVERND'S DAUGHTER RAPED BY THE DEVIL!  
  
He gritted his teeth until he felt his jaw creak. He didn't know who the leak at the police station was, but *someone* was going to pay for this blight on his reputation. He picked up the phone a second time and dialed. His accent was shed as easily as his peaceful demeanor as he spoke into the phone.  
  
"I may have a job for you. I'll be in touch." 


	2. Some Enchanted Evening 2

"And it is the spirit of the LORD, that you have come here tonight! And I HOPE, that in HIS HOLY NAME, you will give of your hearts this day!"  
  
"You can go past this, thanks." The security computer tech nodded at Scully's prompt and the tape sped up, accelerating the Reverend's movements to a comical flailing.  
  
"You have to admit, Scully...the man has the powah!" She didn't have to turn to see Mulder's grin. "He raised over $150,000 that night." He clasped her shoulders in his hands for a moment. "Demons out!"  
  
Scully's lips twisted into a wry grin at Mulder's antics and elbowed him softly. "It's not hard to get people to do something if they think you have something they need." She turned and looked up at him from her seat. "In the case of the Reverend's viewers, they believe Canfield has a touch with God that they don't. They will empty their wallets just for a piece of that, and he uses his charisma to make them think that he'll speak to God for them."  
  
"Stop it here," she told the tech as the speech ended, then looked back at her partner. "In the case of these people, he alters his sermon to make those who have money feel guilty for their riches, as it is not the humble lifestyle the Lord appreciates. They'll ease their consciences, empty their checking accounts and get a tax write-off all in one fell swoop. No muss, no fuss, no commitment."  
  
*And in your case, Mulder, your hope of finding your sister is the ring in your nose by which the Smoking Man leads you.* She paused a moment as she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. *Too many parallels, Mulder...am I the only one to see them?*  
  
She sighed. "It's sad how easily people with hope can be led, and that there are people like Canfield ready to lead them for their own selfish gains." She sighed, thinking of more than just the Reverend's jilted flock as she spoke the last. "But we didn't come out here to debate ethics, or strength of faith." She looked back to the tech again. "Okay, play it from here."  
  
They watched the five different screens as the party began, the sound from the speakers tinny as the music started and people began to get up and mingle.  
  
"You said that this was when he approached her?" Mulder leaned forward to watch as she nodded in reply. The three of them watched the sulky teenager silently as she picked at her food and looked idly at the crowd.  
  
She felt the heat of her partner against her back as he leaned forward to point at the upper corner of the screen. "There," he said, "See him? He's watching her."  
  
Scully followed his gaze and saw that he was right. He was standing off to one side, sipping a drink and watching her. He fit the sketchy description too; with his tall frame and dark wavy hair, this could be their man. *It certainly fits with the Devil description as well...he even has a goatee*  
  
They focused on him for another minute or so, and watched him take a glass of champagne from a waiter and approach her table. "Stop it here." The tape froze as he handed Christine the drink, catching his smiling face in the frame. "The description fits with what Christine remembers....can we zoom in and get a printout of that picture?"  
  
"Sure thing, Agent Scully." The tech highlighted the young man's image and clicked the PRINT button. The inkjet machine whirred to life and the picture emerged a half-inch at a time.  
  
"I'll get Chuck to sharpen it up for us." Mulder resumed his seat and she glanced back at him, remembering the intrepid photoanalyst from other cases.  
  
"You will tell Chuck that it's just a photo, right? Nothing else?" She felt her eyebrow arch, this time with amusement.  
  
Mulder mock-pouted as he grabbed the printout. "You're no fun. How else am I going to feed the man's hobby?" She chuckled softly and nodded to the tech to start the tape again.  
  
They watched as the two talked, with nobody else seeming to show interest in Christine. She sipped some champagne and took his offered hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. "Well, so far it fits with what she told me." She looked at Mulder, who was watching with a puzzled expression. "What?"  
  
"I'm just wondering why all the photographers are still snapping pictures of the Reverend and his contributors and not capturing this Kodak moment." He nodded to the unmolested couple, swaying against one another, oblivious to the crowd. "The tabloids would give a fortune for a photo like that; you saw how they jumped all over the story after it happened. How come none of them saw the beginning of it?"  
  
Scully watched a little more carefully and saw that it was true. Nobody seemed to be watching the couple at all, least of all the photographers. She grew even more puzzled as the couple went to the bar and were served without a second glance. She knew the Reverend would have left specific orders *not* to serve Christine alcohol. This certainly made things more interesting.  
  
She had to admit, with his handsome looks and obvious style, it would be hard for Christine or any teenager to resist this young man. *That doesn't make him innocent of date rape* she admonished herself. *You've met many a handsome monster in your younger years as well.* As Christine and her new friend sat at a nearby table and talked, Scully wondered what he was saying to her, what he was promising to get her away from there.  
  
Whatever he said must have worked, however, because she glanced nervously at her father's table about ten minutes later, then at the door. He leaned forward and whispered something, and Scully tensed as Christine smiled and nodded.  
  
Scully was reminded suddenly of what she did when she watched a favorite movie, praying that the hero didn't take that one step that led to certain disaster no matter how many times she knew that he did. She prayed that Christine would come to her senses, even as she watched them walk to the door, the girl's fingers twined with his, then watched with surprise as nobody acknowledged that Reverend Canfield's daughter was leaving with a stranger. "What the hell...?"  
  
"My feelings exactly." Mulder pointed to the stone-faced bodyguard that stood not ten feet from the exit, oblivious to their departure even as the pair walked by him. "You think he's still employed by the Reverend?"  
  
"I don't know.....can we see the valet parking video now?" Scully looked at the confusing array of VCRs and monitors and located the archive for the valet drop-off even as the tech grabbed it. "If he dropped his car off, we can find the plate number from the valet records."  
  
Mulder watched as the tech slid the tape into the VCR and hit PLAY. "That is, if people even remember him being there."  
  
The tech fine-tuned the images as the video began. "Well we have him on camera, and I can zoom in and get a plate number, record or not." He began to play the tape on a higher speed, slow enough to see the people getting in and out, but fast enough so they wouldn't be there all evening.  
  
"Hey, you wanna catch Sigfried and Roy after this, or walk over and see the pirate show?"  
  
Scully looked back to Mulder's grin with one of her own. "What, no drive-thru wedding with Elvis as the minister?" She pointed soberly at her partner, as he appeared to consider the suggestion. "No."  
  
"But--"  
  
"Here he is."  
  
They both ceased the banter and leaned forward at the tech's summons, and saw the smiling face of Christine Canfield as the now-familiar young man walked her around to the passenger side of a dusty Jeep Grand Wagoneer. Her step was unsteady, and Scully knew by the girl's silly grin that she was at least tipsy, if not full-blown intoxicated by this time. *Strike two, mystery guest. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor* "Can we get a plate?"  
  
The tech highlighted the fender of the big wagon, and blew out his breath in frustration as the image enlarged. "Dammit....there's a dirty dust cover on the plate. I can't see anything."  
  
Mulder shrugged. "We can check with the valet's records and hope for the best."  
  
"Wait." Both men turned to her curiously. "Go to the right....zoom in on the fender. There's a sticker on it...see if you can sharpen that up."  
  
"What, you looking to find out if he wants to save the whales?" Mulder watched as the tech went to work enlarging the image, already arranging his papers into something portable.  
  
Scully said nothing as the image began to coalesce on the screen, and as it cleared she smiled. "Bingo."  
  
"What?" Mulder tilted his head at her smile, the glanced at the screen. "What is it?"  
  
"Something that Christine told me about what he said to her made me remember....it's been so long, I wasn't sure I remembered right, but this confirms it." She tapped her finger to the screen and the small square sticker on the bumper. "UCB. This is a parking sticker for University of California at Berkeley."  
  
"How do you know?" Mulder squinted at the image.  
  
"Christine said that her attacker teased her about worshipping a golden bear instead of a golden calf. Berkeley's football team is The Golden Bears." She suppressed a smile at Mulder's surprise.  
  
"How do you know *that*?" Even as he asked, she saw the realization dawn. "Right....freshman year at Berkeley...physics major."  
  
She nodded. "California, here we come..." She paused as Mulder looked at her strangely. "What?"  
  
He winked at her. "Just trying to imagine you in a tube top and love beads."  
  
The computer tech snorted in laughter, and she pulled Mulder out of the room by his tie.  
  
**********  
  
Scully fumed silently, her eyes closed in weariness. *All those hotels in Vegas, and we end up here. I'm going to kill him.* She sat up on the bed, trying *not* to look at the mirror above her, and reached for her suitcase.  
  
She declined to unpack, as the dresser drawers looked more suited for a domicile for vermin than a place to put clothes. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the miniscule bathroom. After a moment's glare at the toilet and sink --no shower-- she began to get ready for bed. *I'm going to kill him.* The memories of the evening filtered back to her travel-fogged brain, and as she brushed her teeth she started to sort through them, something she would have done earlier if she hadn't fallen asleep in the car.  
  
First, they'd shown Christine the stranger's picture, and her wide-eyed, wordless nod confirmed that the goateed youth was who they were looking for. After a few more questions, she told them that she remembered a big car that sat high on the road, which was consistent with the Grand Wagoneer they'd seen in the video. Canfield had thanked them for the information, and they'd left to question the hotel staff.  
  
"Yeah, I saw him...had a real knockout with him too. Tall brunette, legs goin' on for miles!" The bartender had barely glanced at Christine's picture before shaking his head. "Nope, he was with the brunette all night. *Man* was she something!"  
  
The valet's account was just as puzzling. "Yeah, I remember that Jeep...he kept that old thing tuned like a piano. The girl that was with him had trouble getting in."  
  
"Because she was drunk?"  
  
"No, because she was short. Cute little redhead in a short skirt, she had a problem getting in, ah, shall we say modestly?" He'd looked at Scully, taking in her diminutive figure and dress, and had the good grace to blush and mumble an apology before they thanked him and left.  
  
They'd even treated the now-unemployed bodyguard of Reverend Canfield to couple of drinks. He'd shook his head when they'd showed him the picture. "I would have seen anyone trying to leave with her, 'specially someone like him. The Rev, he left me specific instructions to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't drink and didn't leave with anyone. When I saw she was gone, I figured she went up to her room." He looked at them, an earnest, lost expression on his face. "I don't know why I didn't check....but I guess that's why I got fired. I should have been watchin' her closer." They'd left him to his regret with heavy hearts and no closer to answers than they were when they'd left the security office.  
  
Then Mulder suggested heading out to California that night to get a jump on the drive. Tired and hungry, she had agreed when he said they'd stop for something to eat as soon as they got on the road. And now, to her regret, they were here, at the irritatingly named Hotel California. Mulder was grinning when he woke her to show her what he'd found.  
  
"Such a lovely place...." He'd said. If she hadn't been muzzy from her nap, she would have punched him.  
  
Now, as she shed her blouse and skirt and pulled on the soft cotton pajamas, she tried to sort out the answers they *did* get. How, if everything they saw on that video was what happened, did everyone else see this young man with someone different? Could this be an organized attempt to discredit the Reverend? She sank to the sagging mattress and lay back, turning quickly on her side and wishing she could put a cover over that damned mirror.  
  
There was another issue on her mind....Berkeley. She'd been back there once since she transferred with her family to Maryland, and it was quite an experience. A lot of memories had surfaced as she'd walked around the campus, some of them pleasant, some of them not, all of them things that she thought she'd left behind.  
  
She remembered her diligence and focus on her physics classes; her parents had sacrificed a lot to give her the chance to go to a big university, and she wasn't going to squander it on partying and slacking off. Those were long study nights in her dorm room, mostly alone as her roommate seemed intent on drinking away her freshman year.  
  
It was a month into the semester that things changed, when she looked up from her books and began to really listen to what was going on around her. All these people in one place, all of them voicing their opinions and all of them ready to debate until they dropped about it. She had been nearly dumbstruck with the realization that this was not her house, where her father's rules and opinions were law. This was a place where she could voice her ideas *and be heard* instead of trying to shout above her brothers and sisters' voices.  
  
She could practically taste the pizza she'd been offered (Hawaiian) when she joined one of the activist groups for a discussion on nuclear power and weapons. The debates had been numerous, and had lasted long into the night. She had devoured every bit of information she'd been given, believed every "educational" brochure she read on the subject, and every day she learned more and more about what the military was doing with the power of the atom. What her father was doing every day when he went to work.  
  
She remembered that Thanksgiving break, and coming home with her soul afire with new ideas, *different* ideas that she knew would make waves in her "smooth-sailing" family. She remembered her anticipation all the way home. And they thought *Melissa* was a handful.....  
  
She remembered the hot tears that burned down her face as she stormed out of the house that first night, her throat sore from shouting, crescent-shaped nail marks so firmly pressed into the heels of her hands that she'd nearly broken the skin. Bill and Charlie had shouted right back at her, good little Navy brats, standing up for what their country had done at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. She didn't care about their anger; from them she was used to it. What had made her cry was the hurt she saw in her father's eyes, the disappointment in her that had rendered him speechless in the face of her tirade. Her heart had ached for what he must be feeling, wondering what had happened to his daughter, the one she knew was his favorite.  
  
She remembered her surrender, how she'd gone back and apologized to Ahab, and her soul had cracked when she saw the gap she'd opened between them. The love would always be there, but the knowledge that she'd somehow tarnished his image of her stayed with her even now.  
  
But she also remembered laughing her troubles away with her new-found friends at a local microbrewery, getting drunk from "tasting" the various flavors. She could almost smell the rich flavor of the thick stouts....  
  
And a brisk October night under a star-filled sky, soft hands stroking her body and a beard-scratchy smile against her cheek as she surrendered to her long-repressed passion.  
  
So many mixed feelings, so many memories surfacing that she'd thought were long-buried after she decided to go to medical school. They'd poked their heads up when she was here a few years ago, and now they were investigating on campus. She was still wondering what the next day would bring when she fell asleep.  
  
**********  
  
His daughter was in a sedative-induced slumber when the man arrived for his instructions.  
  
"You have what I need?"  
  
The Reverend held out a computer printout, obtained by the hotel security tech. It was amazing how easily secrets were divulged with just a slight application of authority. He would have to phone his lawyer to cover the tech's hospital bills, plus a generous amount delivered to his home both to keep him quiet and to let him know that he knew where he lived if he didn't keep quiet.  
  
The man took it, looking at the smiling face for only a second before putting it inside his coat. "How you want me to work this?"  
  
The headline swam before his eyes as he replied quietly. "Make it look like an accident."  
  
"Where do I start?"  
  
**********  
  
"University of California at Berkeley," Mulder read the sign aloud as they entered the campus proper. "My mother used to say that it was too small to be a city-state and too big to be an insane asylum."  
  
Scully's lips barely curled upwards, and he sighed to himself. He had hoped to get at least a smile out of her before they began the investigation, but it looked as if it was futile. His partner had been strangely reticent, even though his attempts at conversation on the way here. After the first hour of trying, starting with "I Spy" and ending with "99 Bottles of Beer", he'd just given up and turned on the radio.  
  
Now, as they drove slowly along the road, classic rock playing softly on the speakers, she watched out the window at the kids playing frisbee, the group sitting in a circle and talking, and a pair of musicians, a scruffy brown-haired young man on the guitar, and a pretty blonde on the bongos. He watched Scully watching them, and wondered as he did a few years ago what her college experience had been like. She'd never told him about her college years, and while he was certainly content to let her have her privacy, it still nibbled at him on occasion.  
  
What was she like back then? Looking at her now, he found he couldn't picture her as anyone but the woman that sat beside him. Anyone else that he'd known in her family he could picture as younger, even as children, with little difficulty.  
  
Melissa, the pretty dreamer blowing dandelions and skipping rope. Growing to a coltish, then beautiful young woman that drove the boys crazy.  
  
Bill Jr., teasing the girls and playing baseball, his shoulders growing broad even as he shot up to tower over his classmates.  
  
Even Maggie, picking flowers and skinning her knee on the playground. Becoming a rock of stability to her family and children.  
  
But Scully....he sighed inwardly as he even used her last name in his thoughts about her, even so far as to be startled when someone called her "Dana". He wondered if Scully had *ever* been a child, let alone a teenager or college student. He supposed that if he'd known her father, he'd probably have the same dilemma. She was just...Scully, so self-possessed in life, in work, even in grief. He wondered if she'd ever let herself go, really let her feelings show through the walls he saw in her eyes sometimes. He was still mulling it over as he eased the car into a parking spot near the campus security.  
  
Scully came out of her reverie as he turned the car off, and for a second she paused, seeming suddenly far off as she looked over at the security building.  
  
"You okay?" He knew what the answer would be, but at least she would say something.  
  
"I'm fine." She gathered the papers together into the manila folder and reached for the door handle. He watched her with growing curiosity as they headed for the small building, wondering at the memories that must be returning for her.  
  
The blue-uniformed man looked up at their entrance, his large hands straightening the papers he was looking at as he rose. He was tall and reasonably fit, which surprised Mulder. When he thought of campus security, he pictured a uniform straining over a paunch, of a face twisted with bitterness of dreams of law enforcement unrealized. With his blue eyes and honest smile, this man looked as if he would be just as comfortable on a surfboard as well as behind this desk. He blinked out of his introspection and reached for his I.D. as the man spoke. "Can I help you folks?"  
  
He and his partner flipped open their wallets with an eerie synchronization and Mulder nodded. "Special Agents Mulder and Scully, we faxed in a request on a parking sticker that was issued this year?"  
  
The officer, whose name tag read "Pritchard", raised his chin in recognition. "Oh yeah. The secretary got the fax and passed it along." He went back to his desk and picked up the papers that he'd been reading, handing them the third sheet in the stack. "There you go, I ran the number that you sent. Hope that helps, Agents."  
  
Scully grabbed the paper, and he saw her brow furrow in confusion as she looked in the file they'd brought with them. "Something wrong, Scully?"  
  
She passed the paper to him, and Mulder felt his own brows draw together as he read the name of the registrant: Melissa Stevens. He glanced at Scully, who was double checking both the picture of the car and of the sticker that they'd lifted from the parking video in Vegas. "Is this the right car?"  
  
"If it's a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer, it is." Pritchard smiled. "I remember that one too....little thing like her driving a beat-up boat like that. She called it 'large and in charge'."  
  
"All these kids coming in and you remember her?" He didn't even need to look to see that arched eyebrow as Scully spoke up, her "skepti-brow", as he called it.  
  
Pritchard smiled even wider. "She was the only freshman to ask for my telephone number." He chuckled. "She was something."  
  
"Have you ever seen her with this man?" Mulder showed him the photo of the suspect, and the man shook his head slowly.  
  
"Nope, haven't seen her much at all...or him." He nodded to Scully. "Like you said, it's a big campus. I have my hands full with kids who *do* get in trouble. She's kept her nose clean, or I'd remember seeing her."  
  
Mulder squinted at the blurry copy of the girl's drivers license, but couldn't get an idea of what she looked like other than 5'2"/blonde/blue that was listed on the card. It was no matter, he had her campus address and phone number, they could--  
  
"Do you have a copy of this year's Student Directory?" He and Pritchard both looked over at Scully, and the officer nodded. Scully looked back at him, and must have seen the curiosity in his eyes. "It's to help the freshman get to know each other, get an idea about where everyone was coming from, their majors, a way to bond."  
  
Mulder nodded at her explanation, and suddenly knew what he was going to look for before they left California. Pritchard handed her the thick book with a smile. "You an alum?"  
  
She shook her head with a soft smile as she flipped through the smiling faces. "I spent my freshman year here before I had to move. I remember this, though." She patted the glossy pages as she flipped through it. She stopped on a page near the back, and after a second, she pointed, moving so that he could see the picture. "Here she is, Melissa Stevens, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Environmental Science major."  
  
Mulder looked at the face, grinning impishly for the camera, and suppressed the urge to smile back. He gave himself a little mental shake, chastising himself for the slip. Her car was used in the commission of a crime; just because she made people smile didn't make her any less of a suspect. Still, the face was familiar, and he closed the book quickly. "I know where we can find her." Scully looked at him, and he smiled. "She likes the bongos."  
  
He saw her puzzled look clear as she remembered the two musicians at the foot of the steps, and she nodded, then smiled at the officer. "Thank you for your help, sir." Mulder raised his chin in farewell as they walked out.  
  
He smiled at her as they headed back to the car. "So, they keep the Student Directories in the library?"  
  
She chuckled back at him, and he gave a mental cheer at the gleam in her eye. "You'll see it when we find the Devil at Berkeley." Mulder just smiled and started the car.  
  
As they made their way back to where they saw Melissa, he took advantage of her suddenly talkative mood. "So if your family hadn't had to move at the end of your freshman year, would you have stayed here?" He looked at the sunny day outside, at the bits of campus life. "There's a lot to like from what I can see."  
  
A glance saw her tilt her head to one side, considering her answer, then a small shake of her head. "No...no, I don't think so."  
  
When she didn't continue, he asked. "Didn't it have enough to offer? The curriculum, the faculty...." He trailed off as he spotted the pair again, and a parking space nearby. He almost missed her reply as he nosed the sedan between the lines.  
  
"I think it offered more than I was ready for."  
  
He felt his eyebrows brush his hairline as she got out of the car, and muttered to himself as he followed, "Curiouser and curiouser."  
  
The two students looked to be taking a break, laughing and talking to each other as they relaxed in the afternoon sun. The boy was dressed in thrift-store finery, carpenter pants, a t-shirt with a Hot Wheels iron-on decal, and the requisite Birkenstock sandals. His brown hair was wavy and pulled back in a ponytail, and his hazel eyes gleamed as he laughed at something the girl said. A well-worn guitar rested across his lap.  
  
The girl, whose open smile revealed her to be the girl they were looking for, was dressed in the same causal style, an old army jacket over a U.C. Berkeley shirt, faded wide-leg jeans and a pair of hiking sandals. She wore a silvery choker around her neck, and friendship bracelets festooned both arms from her wrists to her elbows. Her sun-bleached hair was mussed, but she didn't seem to care as she raked a hand through the short platinum mop. Between her knees sat a set of bongos, a strap attached to each side for easy transportation.  
  
The two looked up as he and Scully approached, their smiles fading into wary curiosity as they reached them. Mulder couldn't blame them. With their suits and manner, he and his partner were obviously here on Official Business, which Scully confirmed as she addressed the girl. "Are you Melissa Stevens?"  
  
The girl peered up at them over the edge of her Lennon shades; her eyes were a clear blue. "That's me. Are you the Prize Patrol or something?" she asked, her smile softening the sarcasm into charm. Her voice had a soft drawl, not enough to brand her a "hick", but enough to remind him how falsely the Reverend's accent rang.  
  
Her smile faded again as they both flashed their credentials. "I'm Agent Dana Scully, and this Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions...?"  
  
She cast a glance at the guitarist, who caught the hint and got to his feet. "I'll catch you later, Moon." He tugged at a lock of her hair playfully, and she winked at him.  
  
"Not if I catch you first, brother....seeya!" She watched the young man lope across the quad, then turned back to them. "All right, ask away."  
  
Mulder looked at Scully, caught her small nod and smiled down at the girl. "You know a good place where we can score a couple of sodas?"  
  
Her eyes widened. "They TOLD you?"  
  
He paused for a second. "Told us what, exactly?" He tensed, ready to grab her if she decided to bolt. Maybe she did know why they were here...  
  
She grinned at their reaction and winked at him. "That I knew the vending machine that will give free Cokes. I'll show you." She leaped lightly to her feet and slung the bongos over her shoulder, and he and Scully moved to either side of her as they headed toward a nearby classroom building.  
  
"You know, you guys have great names," She said as they opened the door for her. "Did you know that Dana is a goddess in certain circles?"  
  
Mulder suppressed a grin at Scully's wry, "I hadn't heard."  
  
She nodded, her smile widening at their quiet amusement. "It just fits...especially with your partner." She turned her charming smile to him. "It would take a goddess to tame a Fox."  
  
Scully shot him a glance, and Mulder felt the heat rise in his cheeks at her "taming" look. He shook his head at the girl's chuckle as they escorted her to an empty classroom. "Have a seat," he said, "We can talk in here."  
  
"Sure thing." The girl moved to the teacher's desk and hoisted herself onto it, letting the bongos slide to the floor with a soft wooden "thud". Mulder wondered if she chose that spot on purpose; in order to keep the figurative "upper hand", he and Scully would have to remain standing as they questioned her. A glance at Scully saw that she was thinking the same thing. "So," she said, "What's the buzz?" She took off the shades and tucked them into a pocket.  
  
Mulder took the cue, pulling out his notebook for effect, though he wasn't sure if his "dumb cop" act would fly as well with her as it had with the Reverend. "Do you own a 1982 Jeep Grand Wagoneer?" Scully stood to one side, while he took a seat at one of the student desks.  
  
She nodded. "I do." She replied, her gaze open and curious. "Did I miss a ticket?"  
  
"Were you driving it last Friday night?" Scully countered, forcing the girl to shift her gaze to her.  
  
She shook her head. "No, I was on campus. Me and Jeff...he's the guy I was with today...we perform together at a local cafe." She shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it was parked. I own it, but a lot of people have the keys."  
  
"Why is that?" Mulder took his turn, genuinely curious.  
  
She shifted her gaze again, her lips tightening just a bit, fading her friendly demeanor enough to show Mulder that she knew exactly what they were doing. "Not a lot of freshman have cars. I do, but I rarely use it. I gave a bunch of people sets of keys, so long as they fill the tank and keep it in good shape. So far no problem.....but then you wouldn't be asking about it." Her brows drew together in puzzlement. "What's happened?"  
  
"We're going to need the names of all the people who have sets of keys, Ms. Stevens," Scully pulled out her notebook and a pen, continuing their route around the desk.  
  
Melissa sighed, looking towards the ceiling as she thought. "Lessee, there's Doog, Jeff, Mike, Cory, Oz, Gina, Andrew, Bill, Hale, Mary, Grace...."  
  
"Do any of this vast list resemble him?" Mulder held up the printout of their suspect.  
  
As she leaned over to glance at it, they heard the sound of footsteps approach the classroom and a young man poked his head in. He smiled at the girl. "Hey Moonie, I was just looking for--" He stopped mid-sentence as he saw she wasn't alone.  
  
Everyone froze.  
  
Mulder's eyes widened as he recognized the newcomer. The young man was dressed far more casually today, but the smile, the hair...he was the one they were looking for. The young man's gaze flicked from the picture in Mulder's hand to his face, and that shift in attention released everyone from their surprised paralysis.  
  
The young man bolted, the soles of his sneakered feet slapping at the tile as he ran.  
  
"Stop right there!" Scully shouted, sprinting out the door after him. Mulder leaped to his feet and started to follow her.  
  
The door slammed shut in front of him, even as he heard another noise to his right. He grabbed the knob and pulled hard, but the door wouldn't budge.  
  
"Can't let you do that, sorry...."  
  
He looked over at Melissa, forgetting until he heard her voice that she was even there, and saw her standing against the closet door, her back to it and pushing hard. He gave a stronger yank at the door, and felt it give a bit--  
  
--just as the closet door opened a bit. Melissa shoved herself back, her rear slamming the closet door with a jolt--  
  
--and the classroom door slammed so hard it pulled the doorknob from his grip.  
  
"Open this door!" Strange or not, Scully needed backup, and he'd been floored by far worse than this to stop now. A crazy thought flitted through his mind. *Or what? Am I going to charge her with Illegal Use of Door?*  
  
Even in the face of his anger, she smiled, seemingly in response to his thoughts. "How are you going to arrest me for obstruction of justice if you go after them?" Her body relaxed just a bit. "He won't hurt her, and she can't catch him."  
  
He stared at her, incredulous at her smile, her quiet defiance. She met his gaze with a slight shrug. "He's lost her already, I'll bet."  
  
As if on cue, his cel phone bleated at him, and she walked back to the teacher's desk as he grabbed it. "Mulder."  
  
Scully's voice was breathless. "I lost him, Mulder....I'm on....the east side....of campus."  
  
His jaw clenched at her words, and he looked over at Melissa, who was gathering her things. "Stay there, Scully. I'll come pick you up."  
  
"Right..." Still panting, she cut the connection before he could say any more. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, feeling the headache start as he regarded her. "How did you know?"  
  
Her smile was sympathetic. "You've never seen him run."  
  
He turned away before he said something he'd regret and gave the doorknob another yank. This time it opened easily, and headed down the hall toward the glowing red "EXIT" sign.  
  
"Hold up!"  
  
He stopped, not looking back. He didn't want to think about what she'd done back in the classroom. Scully was waiting for him, and he was damned if this girl would delay him any longer than she had already. He heard a metallic *thunk*, and turned around as two more followed the first, his curiosity winning over his frustration.  
  
Melissa stood at the vending machine, and now cradled three cans of iced tea against her chest. She hurried to catch up with him, and met his hands-on-hips glare with surprised indignation. "What? She's gonna need it, isn't she?"  
  
He whirled and made for the car, forcing her to keep up with his long, angry strides if she didn't want to be left behind. To his annoyance, she managed it easily, the bongos bumping against her hip. She slid into the back seat of the car, and thankfully kept quiet as he cruised the campus in search of his partner.  
  
**********  
  
Scully leaned against a building as she waited for Mulder. It hadn't taken her long to regain her breath, but regaining her composure...that would take a bit longer. She shaded her eyes with her hand, staring out across the road beyond the parking lot, the road where the suspect had escaped.  
  
She looked, unbelieving, at the dusty sneakerprint on the car's hood. Footprint. Singular. Not a set of tracks as he ran across the hood and roof of the car...just one footprint, then nothing.  
  
"I had him..." she said to herself. "I *had* him."  
  
And she had. He had gotten a headstart when he first bolted down the hallway, but as he reached the front door he'd skidded and nearly fell, banging out the door awkwardly before regaining his footing. She'd reached the door before it closed, shouting the familiar battle cry of "Federal Agent!" as she leaped down the steps. As she'd closed in on the suspect, she'd thanked herself for continuing her workouts at her local gym, and her mother for pointing her towards the Easy Spirit store to buy her work shoes.  
  
She'd lost a bit of ground as he hurdled over a bicycle rack and she had to run around it, but made it up quickly when he had to hesitate before crossing the street. Her lungs had started to burn, but not as hot as her determination; she would catch him.  
  
Then he'd started playing with her; she felt her hands clench into fists again as she remembered. He'd slowed down a couple of times, glancing back to check her progress, then pouring on the speed as she neared. Anger had lent wings to her feet, and the fire in her lungs was nothing compared to what she envisioned she would do when she caught him.  
  
He'd made a quick turn between two classroom buildings, and she'd felt a flare of triumph. If she remembered correctly, the alley emptied into a long fenced parking lot, the entrance at the far end. He wouldn't be able to scale the fence before she reached him, and she would catch up with him if he tried to make for the entrance. That thought spurred her even faster. Their footfalls echoed in unison against the buildings as they pounded past....  
  
And that's when it had happened.  
  
They'd reached the parking lot, and his stride had checked for a moment as he saw the cars, then the high fence beyond. Instead of slowing, or turning to make for the entrance, he'd looked back and smiled. Smiled! Then he'd shouted in a voice tinged with laughter.  
  
"Can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man!"  
  
Before she had a chance to process what he said, he'd vaulted onto the hood of the car before him, and jumped....  
  
He sailed over the row of parked cars and the high fence with room to spare, landing with a rolling tumble on the other side.  
  
She'd skidded to a stop, catching herself on a nearby car as he picked himself up. He'd met her incredulous gaze for a moment, then winked, blowing her a kiss before jogging up the street as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
And here she stood, trying to believe what she had seen, and having a *very* hard time with it. She almost wanted to laugh; she could hear her own voice in rebuttal. *Nobody can jump a row of parked cars and a nine foot fence. Even with a running start it would take far more strength than a normal man possesses*  
  
She snorted delicately in self-derision and muttered, "Since when have the past six years been normal?"  
  
Two quick honks of a car horn shook her from her thoughts, and when she looked up she saw the familiar sedan approaching. She saw two people inside, and sighed. She couldn't talk to Mulder about this in front of anyone. It would sound crazy enough just coming from *her*, let alone in front of a bystander.  
  
*You mean accomplice. He called her by name...she knows him. How could she be protecting him?*  
  
She pushed her speculations to the back of her mind as they pulled up to the curb and got out. She would definitely talk about this later. She turned and faced the pair as they approached, and paused as Melissa held out a can of iced tea.  
  
"Here," she said, "Electrolytes and all that."  
  
"Thanks...." She took the can, giving the girl another searching look as she popped it open.  
  
Mulder shot Melissa a look of his own, then looked down the walkway where she had chased the suspect. "Is this where he went?" He started to walk towards it, and she felt a stab of panic. She couldn't let him go back there just yet, she had to talk to him before....  
  
She turned to Melissa, who was watching them both. "Ms. Stevens, you're free to go, but I must ask that you remain on campus in case we have any further questions." Mulder stopped in his tracks at her words.  
  
*Good*  
  
She fished a card from her coat pocket and handed it to her. "If you have any further contact with this man, please call us."  
  
The girl took the card, tucking it away in a pocket, and looked back up at her. "No problem....what did he do?"  
  
Mulder interrupted at this point, his voice a bit harder than his usual drawl. "In using your car, he may have made you an accessory to rape."  
  
Melissa blanched at his words, and Scully couldn't help but feel for her a little, someone who seemed to trust everyone to be burned this badly. Mulder continued, pressing the "bad cop" angle. "If you know anything about this, I suggest you let us know now, and maybe make things easier for you when we finally do bring this guy in."  
  
The girl nodded, wide-eyed, taking a step back from Mulder's angry gaze, then flushed as she hefted the bongos onto her shoulder. "We'll talk, okay? I just have to get a few things together." A cloud passed over her features even as the sky darkened with threatening weather. "You know where to find me."  
  
Mulder watched her as she turned and headed back towards the west side of campus, his expression as stormy as the sky. She broke the silence before the rain began. "Let's go find a hotel. I need a shower, and then we need to talk about this."  
  
He nodded, his gaze still following the girl. "Something's going on here, Scully."  
  
"I know." She felt her lips curve up as he looked at her in surprise. "We'll talk after we're settled in."  
  
**********  
He watched them head back to their car with a soft smile on his lips, then nodded to his student as she came around the corner. He sensed her mood before he saw her frown, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Easy, now...what is it?"  
  
"They said he raped someone, Loren, and he used my car the night he did." Her voice held an equal measure of hurt and anger. "I told you he was trouble--"  
  
He smiled soothingly at her concern. "Peace, Moonshadow." He slipped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him as the thunder rumbled closer. "You know how things get exaggerated when we're involved. People don't want to believe." He looked back across the campus, and saw that the car had pulled away. "In this case, however, things are a bit more complicated." He sighed. "These aren't small-town cops that have a backlog a mile high. We'll have to tread very carefully."  
  
"Do you really think he did it, Lor? You're his mentor, you know him better than the rest of us." He heard the hope in her soft voice, and his heart was glad for it. Of all his students, she was the one he knew would do more with her passions than "just do it". Still, hope could only be stretched so far before that trust was broken.  
  
"I don't know...but we have to find out before the FBI." The first fat drops started to fall, and they trotted quickly to a small, covered pavillion. "What were their names?" he asked as she shook the water from her short hair.  
  
She wiped the rain from her cheeks and smiled despite her troubled manner. "They were beautiful names....Fox Mulder and Dana Scully." Her voice had an almost reverent quality as she spoke the names, then turned as wry as her grin. "You'd think people named Fox and Dana would be a little more attuned to these things..."  
  
She continued to talk, but he didn't hear what she said, so powerful was the memory that surfaced at the name, as if suddenly cut free from the anchor that had held it deep within him. Now it filled his consciousness so completely he forgot the rain as it pounded down on the pavillion. The smell of the dying leaves beneath them, the bite of the chilly autumn air, the warmth of her body....He started to laugh at the turn of the wheel that had brought her back to him. It was so perfect....  
  
"Loren, this isn't a laughing matter! We have to find him, and find out what really happened that night!"  
  
He stopped quickly, hearing the distress in her voice, and smiled at her shining eyes. "Hey, no tears." He reached out and caught the first one as it trailed down her cheek. "It's not a lost cause. Your Dana Scully is more attuned than even she realizes, trust me."  
  
She took a deep breath and let it out, and by the time she'd done it three times, she was calmer. "If you say so, brother."  
  
He tipped her chin up and gave it a little shake. "And I do say so." He looked out at the pouring rain. "You go back to your dorm, talk to the others. See if anyone's seen our wayward child." He caught her nod from the corner of his eye, yet she paused. "What is it?"  
  
"What if he did do it?"  
  
There was a tremor to her voice, and he smiled gently as he remembered the first time he thought something like that, when he realized that even their number were just as capable of monstrosity as of goodness. He slid an arm around her shoulders again, leaning down to rest his cheek her damp hair. "Then, Moonshadow, we will deal with our own."  
  
She nodded against his lips, her murmured "I understand" barely audible over the rain. He gave her a quick squeeze, then let her pull away. "Now go find the others and track him down."  
  
She nodded, her shoulders straightening, her smile returning. "I'll find him, and we'll get it all straightened out."  
  
He ran his hand through his curly hair as she stepped away, brushing the long locks back from his shoulders. "That we will."  
  
As she pelted through the rain towards her dorm, he shoved his hands into his pockets and sat down to wait out the storm. He chuckled as the newly-surfaced memory bobbed to the front of his mind again. "My sunshiny Day.....I wonder if you remember me." 


	3. Some Enchanted Evening 3

Mulder stretched his legs out on the bed, a bag of sunflower seeds nestled in his lap as he watched his partner curl into the hotel room chair. She was "out of uniform" at the moment, dressed in an oversized green pullover and a pair of soft grey leggings. Her hair was damp and dark against her cheeks, making her blue eyes seem brighter by comparison.  
  
Absent of makeup as she was, Mulder saw for an instant what he couldn't picture earlier. A young Dana Scully, curled up on a comfortable couch, bare feet tucked under her and long hair tucked behind her ear, slowly turning the pages of a freshman Biology textbook, lamplight bathing her face as the rain poured down outside. He smiled to himself, filing that image away in his memory to be examined when he could give it his full attention.  
  
She sighed finally. "So..." She rested her knuckles against her lip, clearly reluctant to elaborate.  
  
"So," He echoed back. Her reluctance only augmented his curiosity. Ordinarily she would have laid out her plan of action in the car and set about outlining their next day by now, glasses perched on the end of her nose and hair pulled back in a functional clip. She'd been silent as a stone on the way to the hotel (he'd respected her silence this time, remembering how effective previous prompts had been), and had only come into his room when he'd opened the adjoining door to check on her.  
  
And here she sat, lips pursed in thought, her gaze turned inward....nothing. He gave her an opening, knowing she would take it. "You don't have to beat yourself up about losing the suspect." He popped a seed into his mouth, enjoying the salty flavor as he rolled it along his tongue. "We'll go through the Student Directory tomorrow and find out his name."  
  
Instead of coming out of her reverie, she just shook her head, her gaze focused somewhere around his feet, voice muffled a bit by her knuckles. "I had him, Mulder."  
  
"You had him?" He felt his eyebrows shoot into his hair.  
  
She lowered her hands to her lap, looking down at them for a moment, then her gaze found his. "I had him cornered, chased into a dead-end parking lot with a nine-foot fence. I should have *had* him."  
  
"What happened?" He crunched another seed, intrigued.  
  
She chuckled in her throat, a wry, dry sound. "I can't explain it. One minute I was catching up to him, the next....." She gestured helplessly. "He jumped a row of parked cars *and* the fence, Mulder! I don't know how he did it...it was like he just flew over it all."  
  
He couldn't resist the gentle jibe. "Like a flying squirrel?"  
  
Her glance was jagged, the anger softened by her sardonic smile. "Cute."  
  
He crossed his ankles, letting the humor settle. "And you're not chalking this up to various other superhuman deeds attributed to adrenaline? That seems unlike the Scully I know."  
  
She shook her head, dismissing both the suggestion and the comment. "This wasn't an adrenaline rush...he wasn't panicking, he was playing with me. He led me on a merry chase across campus, practically laughing at me the whole time."  
  
He heard Scully's tone darken in frustration, and he felt for her. Anyone in law enforcement can sympathize with getting jerked around by a suspect who knows he's going to get away with something. Whether it was from a good defense attorney or a faulty witness or escaping on foot, it burned every time.  
  
"I've never seen anyone run like that outside the Olympics." He heard her say, and remembered a similar reply from earlier that day.  
  
"I know someone who has." At her quizzical glance, he continued. "While you were busy chasing Carl Lewis, I was having my own problems with his accomplice."  
  
He described the events that had transpired after she had gone after their suspect, and watched first one, then both eyebrows rise. "I'll see your inhuman jump and raise you a vicarious door-slamming."  
  
"She knows something about this, I know it." Mulder nodded in agreement as she continued. "She may not have known what this young man's done, but she knows him and how to find him."  
  
"And now that she knows, she's going to find him for us." He popped another seed into his mouth. "The question is what she'll do when she does. Heads, she turns him in, tails she hides him."  
  
Scully sighed. "And that's another thing...*why* would she be protecting him if she thinks he may have raped someone?"  
  
"She thinks we're lying? She thinks something must be mixed up? She thinks she knows him better?" Mulder shrugged. "Why does anyone protect a known criminal? We've seen it before."  
  
"But this isn't a battered wife or a junkie girlfriend here, Mulder. This is an outgoing, friendly person who practically radiates confidence." She tapped a finger on her knee, then nodded with a bit more surety. "We need to question her again. Tonight."  
  
Mulder nodded with her, and with that she retreated to her room to change. He felt just a twinge of regret that his partner hadn't been able to relax longer, but he could almost hear her voice reminding him that this wasn't a vacation. He wished it were a vacation; how long had it been for either of them since they got away from all this? Perhaps when this was all over he could convince her to play hooky with him a few more days, but until then....  
  
He shrugged his shoulder holster and jacket back on, and was stepping into his shoes when she returned, straightening her jacket. He nodded to her again, and they both turned for the door. Mulder smiled to himself in satisfaction. Now that they had a purpose, there was little need for more words. Their years together had refined them so much that they never needed more that a touch, a glance, a silent gesture when they worked, and this was no exception.  
  
Their footsteps echoed as one as they headed for the parking lot.  
  
**********  
  
Moonshadow's lips tightened into a thin line when she found the address, and her step quickened as she approached the door to the place. This is where the gang said he'd been hanging out lately. Not one of his usual haunts, but the atmosphere was about the same. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
  
The raucous din of the microbrewery would ordinarily put a smile on her face, but tonight she wasn't here for pleasure. She squinted into the haze and saw him, snugged in one of the back booths, chatting with a pretty young girl. Her resentment rose a notch as she wove through the dense crowd with the ease of one of the cocktail waitresses. She reached the table without being pinched or whistled at, and took a second to catch her breath before she called his name.  
  
"Aidan." Both of them looked up when she spoke. The girl must have seen the attitude she was projecting, and wisely didn't say anything. Aidan, however, turned his lazy, tipsy grin to her. "Hey, Moonie...how's it going?"  
  
His "happy drunk" tone scraped rawly against her anger, and she shot back at him. "How's it going? After what you did today you ask me how's it going? Are you actually *celebrating* your escape from the Feds today with a beer and a lay!" She shot a dismissive look at the girl across from him, who took the hint, edging out of the booth with a "...call you sometime...".  
  
"Aw, don't go, Sherise...." She grabbed his arm as he rose to follow the girl, and he frowned at her hard touch. "What the hell!" His words were slurred a bit, and he practically reeked of the house's stout. "I din't *do* anything..."  
  
She slammed her hand on the table, unable to stop herself from shouting. "The FBI says you *did*, Aidan! They said you did something, and I'm not going to let you go until you spill it!" She pulled him to his feet, yanking his face level with hers. "You and I are going back to see Loren," she said through clenched teeth, "and we're gonna find out exactly what you 'haven't' done. This is not the place to argue about how badly you screwed up, so we're heading back to campus where -everyone- can talk. Now are you coming, or am I going to lose my temper!"  
  
She shook him once, hard, and this time his eyes focused on her as other people turned to stare. Her anger, as well as the scene they were making, must have finally filtered through to him, because this time when he lowered his gaze, he nodded. "All right...le's go."  
  
She kept a firm grasp on his arm, both to support his footing and to keep him from getting away as they made their way towards the door. Even drunk, she was taking no chances with him this time. He kept his head down, his wavy hair a curtain hiding his face, but kept up with her easily enough.  
  
She felt a jolt, and their progress halted abruptly as Aidan stumbled, having bumped into someone on his way by. He muttered a slurred "Sorry..", but the man that he bumped turned with a glare.  
  
"You do that on purpose, *punk*?" The man stepped up to Aidan, barely an inch taller than him but managing to tower all the same. She stepped up to him, trying to defuse this before it got out of hand.  
  
"He didn't mean it, sir, really....I was just taking my brother home." He shifted his gaze to her, and she almost recoiled at the cold malice in the man's eyes. She heard herself say "Please...?", her mind already begging him to leave them alone. Aidan, however, had other ideas, and twitched his arm away from her.  
  
"I don't do anything by accident, mister. I think *you* made the mistake." His eyes blazed with the confidence of alcohol, and Moonshadow felt a chill go through her. Something was wrong with this, she could feel it.  
  
"You wanna take it outside?" The man's fingers twitched, already starting close into fists.  
  
She grabbed at Aidan again. "Ade, don't do this, okay? Let's go!"  
  
He twitched away again, standing chest to chest with the stranger. "I can teach this asshole a lesson before I go."  
  
The stranger smiled, and the certainty, the satisfaction of the smile cinched the sense of *wrongness* of this whole scene. No sober man would get this mad over a stupid clumsy mistake....unless he was expecting it. She grabbed him a third time as he shoved the front door open. "Aidan, this isn't worth it! Please, just come with me, this isn't right!"  
  
He whirled on her, his eyes flashing in the dim light, and she found herself again with a plea on her lips as he shouted. "Will you just shut up and let me handle this! Christ, you're a bossy little bitch!"  
  
He jerked his arm out of her grasp and stormed outside as the man laughed at her open mouth, her wide eyes. He held the door open for her with a condescending smile. "Guess he told you, didn't he?" His gaze hardened for a moment. "You'd best clear out, missy, this is between your boyfriend and me."  
  
Aidan's angry words may have struck her dumb, but the thug's warning only proved that this was trouble, and big time. She shot the man what she hoped was an icy glare, then turned and walked out, following Aidan into the alleyway.  
  
As soon as she heard the door shut, the noise of the bar silenced behind them, she knew they'd made a mistake. She saw Aidan stop dead as another man faded out of the shadows, his broad shoulders seeming even larger in the dark of the alleyway. He wore a beige trenchcoat, a pair of dark leather gloves, and something glinted in his right hand. She whipped around to see the first man slipping on a similar pair of gloves, shaking his head.  
  
Aidan's alcohol-fogged mind finally must have realized something was up, and she heard his sullen drawl. "What th' hellzis?"  
  
The first man laughed softly, but didn't reply as he tugged the second glove on. Alarm bells jangled noisily in her mind, and she groped desperately for a way out.  
  
"Please, we don't want any trouble!" Moonshadow fumbled in her pocket, knowing it was futile, but trying to buy time to figure a way out of this. "We have money...!"  
  
The first man shook his head and took another step forward. There was a *snick*, loud in the quiet of the alley, and she jumped as a shining blade popped out of it's sheath in the man's hand.  
  
"Hey, I asked you a question!" Aidan blustered, some of the slur gone from his voice as he realized the danger.  
  
The larger man laughed. "You shouldn't have messed with the Rev, punk...now you both pay."  
  
The first man glared at his partner, "Shut up! We're not paid to talk!" His gaze met hers again, and the smile on his face sent a chill racing up her spine. This was no fraternity prank. This was no jealous boyfriend. These people meant to kill.  
  
She heard Aidan's "Shit--" behind her, and she knew he had realized the same thing.  
  
Moonshadow tensed, standing back to back with Aidan as the two men charged.  
  
**********  
  
"Make a right here." Scully slid the papers back into the portfolio so they wouldn't scatter as Mulder navigated the streets. "There's a shorter way than the way we came in."  
  
"You know, you should be the one driving here, Scully." Mulder made the right into the darkened street. "You're the one that knows the area."  
  
"I haven't known this area for over ten years, Mulder. Things have changed since then." *Most of those things being me* She shook that thought away as they approached the corner. "Make another right here."  
  
Mulder turned the car down the side street, this one even darker than the last, lit only by the occasional neon sign. "This is a shortcut?"  
  
She nodded. "This should empty out not far from Melissa's dormitory...." She smiled, unable to resist. "Unless you want to stop and ask directions."  
  
Mulder said nothing, not even a laugh, and Scully looked over at him to see his attention was focused elsewhere. She followed his gaze as he stopped the car, and she leaned forward on the dashboard, trying to make out what was happening.  
  
On first glance it appeared to be a mugging, two larger men facing off against a couple of college kids. After a second she saw their clean trenchcoats and gloves and knew they had stumbled on something more than that. She reached back, feeling for her Sig Sauer and saw Mulder mimic her as he shoved the car into park.  
  
They stepped out of the car, and as she came around to Mulder's side, she caught a flash of blonde from across the street, and an all-too-familiar face sandwiched between the two men....it was Melissa, and another young man with her.  
  
One of the "muggers" said something, and Scully caught the word, "talk!", then Mulder shouted as the two men tensed to charge.  
  
"Federal Agents! Hold it right there!"  
  
The nearer of the two turned to look at them, his pug-nosed features wide-eyed and fearful, and Scully saw the knife in his hand. "Drop your weapon! Hands in the air!"  
  
As the two men dropped their knives, the girl turned to her companion. "Ade, RUN!" She gave him an urgent push, and, with a startled glance that revealed him to be their suspect, he started to run.  
  
"Freeze!" Scully turned her gun towards the fleeing youth. "Stop right there!" He was getting away *again*. She tensed to run after him, but she knew with an angry ache that she couldn't leave Mulder here without backup.  
  
As if to illustrate her point, there was a flurry of movement from the alleyway as the one behind Melissa reached into his coat. She shifted her attention back to the men as the girl caught sight of what he was reaching for.  
  
"NO!" The girl's higher voice rang out in the alleyway, but instead of grappling for the now-revealed pistol, she lowered her head and rammed it into the gunman's belly--  
  
--and he flew backwards into the alley as if jerked by a rope around his waist, landing in the dark with a crash of metal.  
  
As the three of them, her partner, herself and the remaining thug, stood open-mouthed, the girl spun around once in a circle, pushed at the air with both hands and her voice rang out once more.  
  
"Shove it!"  
  
The man jerked backwards, just like his partner, skidding across the street to stop at their feet.  
  
Scully leveled her weapon at the now-prone man, her body running on reflex and procedure. *I did -not- just see what I think I just saw, I did -not-....* "Hands behind your head!" The man complied dazedly, and she cuffed him, then searched him, not surprised when she found the .45 in his coat.  
  
"Scully, we have a man down here!"  
  
She looked up, not even realizing that Mulder had left her side until she saw him across the street, almost concealed in the dark of the alley. She heard him speaking into his cel phone, calling 911 for an ambulance, and the local police.  
  
The girl hadn't moved from where she had stood, and her skin was pale in the moonlight as she looked back at the alleyway. As she watched, Melissa dropped to her knees, her body bowed over, her hands cradled in her lap. She stared at nothing, her eyes wide and unfocused. *Shock* she thought, and hauled her suspect up, Mirandizing him quickly before pushing the unresisting man into the car.  
  
She crossed the street quickly, hearing the sirens approaching in the distance. Bypassing the girl, she went directly to the unconscious gunmen. "Take care of her," she said to Mulder, motioning with her head towards Melissa even as she felt for a pulse on the man. With a scrape of shoe on asphalt, Mulder left her side to attend to the girl.  
  
A strong beat greeted her questing fingers, and she gave a little sigh of relief. A penlight fished from her pocket showed a normal pupil response, and by the time the EMTs arrived she was ready with her spiel: Possible concussion, keep him for observation, I'll ride with you, he needs to be kept under guard.  
  
She looked back at Mulder as they wheeled the man to the ambulance, approaching him as he spoke quietly with the girl. "Is she all right?" She looked at Melissa, who seemed shaken, but not as bad as she had looked a minute ago. Scully felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, knowing that it would be a long time before she regained her emotional footing again after something like this.  
  
Mulder nodded as he helped the girl stand up. "She says that the one in the car goaded her and her friend outside, then they pulled the knives." He looked at her again. "Did either of them look familiar, or show you any identification?"  
  
Melissa shook her head, her voice a shaky ghost of the happy girl they'd met earlier today. "No...but one of them said something I didn't understand." She frowned, puzzled. "That he shouldn't have messed with the Rev." She looked to Mulder. "That's when the other guy told him to shut up, and you guys got there."  
  
Mulder looked up, and she knew that her realization was reflected in his eyes as well. The Rev. Reverend Canfield. She looked towards their car and waved one of the cops over, already regretting what she had to do next. She could feel her headache start; this case was getting far too complicated. She turned to the girl again. "Melissa, you do know that if you don't tell us where we can find the man who was with you, we have to arrest you?"  
  
Scully felt an eerie sense of deja vu, remembering a cold cell, a Senate hearing, those same words spoken to her as she prayed Mulder knew what he was doing. She wondered for a moment if this situation was the same, if there was indeed something that she knew that could untwist this tangled case....then shook off the chill as the girl nodded.  
  
"I understand, Agent Scully... " Her wide blue gaze met Scully's. "Loren said you would understand too, but I wonder now if you ever will."  
  
The name hit her like a punch that sent her smashing through the wall she'd constructed so long ago, nearly staggering her in a situation that already had her so off-balance.  
  
"Scully, you okay?"  
  
She barely heard Mulder's concern, so strongly did the memory return, as clear as if it had been yesterday. Cool night air, warm hands in her hair, bodies rocking to an ancient rhythm as the year died around them...  
  
"Agent Scully!"  
  
She jumped as she heard a different voice call her name, and turned guiltily to see the EMT waiting by the ambulance. "You wanted to ride in with him?" he said, impatience in his tone and echoed in his posture. "We gotta go now."  
  
She looked back to Mulder's worry, Melissa's confusion, and the cop's questioning glance, not wanting to deal with any of it until she could think again. "I'll meet you at the station, Mulder..." She turned and fled before he could reply, hating herself for running but not wanting to deal with him until she sorted out this situation.  
  
She climbed into the ambulance, taking comfort in the familiar beeps and hums of the medical equipment. Nothing unexpected here to surprise her, to tear open memories she'd thought had scabbed over. Nothing to prod at her silence, to force her to deal with things before she was ready.  
  
The ambulance gave a lurch, and she breathed a little easier as it pulled away from the questions, if only for a time. She glanced at the unconscious man, checking his vitals, busying herself with the reassurance of expertise, a buffer against the memories that loomed from the past. When her present life collided with her past again, she would be ready.  
  
**********  
  
Mulder turned his badge and weapon over to the duty clerk and entered the holding area, shutting the door quietly. The basement cells were empty, save for one at the end of the row, where a small figure was curled on one of the cots.  
  
He walked slowly to where the girl slept, not sure what he was going to ask her first. *Pardon me, but when you're through explaining the psychokinesis and why you're protecting a suspected rapist, could you tell me who the hell Loren is and why the mention of his name left my partner gasping like a landed trout?*  
  
He stopped in front of her cell, and saw an empty styrofoam cup, a napkin, and a cupcake paper. He frowned slightly; he'd instructed that no one be allowed to see her until he questioned her. A moment's thought brought to mind the plate of richly frosted cupcakes on a secretary's desk and the plump, kindly-faced woman at the keyboard. She had seemed surprised to see him there with Melissa in handcuffs, and he wouldn't put it past her to try and bring the girl a snack. Still, it both rankled him and didn't surprise him that the local authorities would defy him just to make sure a prisoner was fed.  
  
His other suspect was cooling his heels in one of the interrogation rooms, waiting for his lawyer. Mulder felt a bit of sympathy for the girl; if the two assailants really were hired by Reverend Canfield to deal with her friend, knowing that she was the only one who could implicate them put her in just as much danger as him. He sighed and took a seat on the bench opposite the cells. Time to find out what exactly was going on.  
  
He cleared his throat loudly, and the girl stirred with an "Nnnnhh..." She uncurled slowly, stretching once before cracking her eyes open. "Agent Mulder?"  
  
"How are you feeling?" He watched as she sat up and leaned back against the wall, her knees up to her chest. He nodded to the remains of the food. "Enjoy your snack?"  
  
She followed his gaze to the litter and smiled. "Yeah, Janine from upstairs brought something down for me. It really hit the spot." She looked to him, scrubbing at one eye with her fist before lacing her fingers together around her knees. "As to your first question, I can truthfully say that I've been better."  
  
"I'll bet." He crossed his legs at the knee. Time to get down to business. "There's something that has me confused, and I was hoping that you could help me figure it out."  
  
Her eyebrows rose as she regarded him. "Shouldn't I be asking for my lawyer about now?"  
  
He laughed softly, knowing how false it sounded. "Seeing as how you're trying to keep us from getting to your friend, I think the last thing you want is more officials involved." He saw her gaze falter, and he knew he'd hit the mark on that one. "Besides, the only thing a lawyer would do now is encourage you to turn this guy in to save yourself from some serious charges."  
  
She shook her head, lowering her gaze to stare at her feet as she sucked her lip between her teeth, tension in every line of her posture. Mulder sensed the change and pressed it. "Obstruction of justice, aiding and abetting a felon, unlawful flight.....accessory to rape." He stressed the last charge, knowing it had affected her the last time he said it.  
  
Her voice was just a whisper. "I can't..."  
  
"Not to mention assault charges, if the two men you encountered decide to prosecute." Mulder leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he saw a tear roll down her cheek. "Melissa, you *will* go to prison if you don't--"  
  
"I can't!" she wailed, fisting her hands in her mussed hair. "You wouldn't understand!"  
  
"How can you know that when you haven't said anything?" He was on the edge of something, he knew it. So was she; her body fairly trembled with indecision, the tears flowing freely now. "What wouldn't I understand?"  
  
She shook her head, her hands still fisted in her hair, not meeting his gaze at all. "You wouldn't believe."  
  
His anger evaporated at the sound of those three words, spoken with the same anguish that he'd felt time and again when trying to put the things he knew into words, only to be met with doubt, pity and derision. He moved off the bench and leaned in, reaching out to touch one trembling shoulder. "I want to believe."  
  
"Liar." Bitter, hateful tone, still not looking up. "You just want to solve this case, to put Aidan in jail so you and your partner can pat yourselves on the back and go home."  
  
He crouched down before her, pulling his hand back to grip the bars separating them. "Melissa, it's my job to get to the bottom of what happened, and right now I don't think either of us knows exactly what that is. The *only* way we can figure out what happened and what do to about it is if we trust each other with what we know."  
  
She stopped trembling, but she still wouldn't look at him...he was so close..."I want to believe that you're not a person who would protect a man who did what he did. I want to believe that there's something more than love for him that would make you risk all this."  
  
She shook her head slowly, taking a shaky breath and letting it out. "It's not love, Agent Mulder...trust me on that."  
  
"Then what is it?" He tightened his grip on the bars, trying not to grab her and shake her. He pitched his voice softer, almost begging. "You have to know by now that I'm the only one who can help you....please tell me! I swear that I'll listen, I'll hear you out, and I'll help in any way I can to see justice served."  
  
Her hand shot out, gripping his around the steel bars of the cell, her gaze piercing his own. "You swear....on Dana's name?"  
  
What? "I--"  
  
"Do you *swear*?" Her voice was suddenly flinty, urgent, demanding assent. He responded with a wordless nod, and she shook her head. "Say it!"  
  
"I swear."  
  
As the words left his lips, he felt a chill race up his spine, the hair on his arms prickling for a second before it passed, and with it's passing he heard her sigh, her grip relaxing as she released his hand.  
  
"In my personal effects, there's a geode in the front pocket of my backpack. Take it out, break it open and come back down." She wiped the tears from her face. "I'll explain things when you come back." She eased off the cot and walked back to the small barred window, looking up into the night. "Just....believe, okay? If you don't believe, this will be over before it begins."  
  
Mulder remained where he was for a minute, trying to process what he'd felt, what she was saying, what her quiet plea meant. *If you don't believe, this will be over before it begins.* He stood up quietly, and without another word he headed for the stairs, wondering how one *tries* to believe.  
  
The evidence clerk gave him a strange look when he asked for her backpack; he didn't even hear what excuse he gave to take something down to her, but it must have worked because the pack slid across the counter to him without further questioning. He unzipped the front pocket, locating the round, rough sphere by feel and hefted it in his hands a moment.  
  
When he was younger, his father had brought home similar spheres from one of his business trips for him and Samantha. They'd both wrinkled their noses at the seemingly dull gift, but he showed them that if you put one in a sock and hit the ground with it as hard as you could, there were glittering crystals inside. With the memory of his sister's bright, happy face in his mind, he pocketed the geode and headed for the bathroom.  
  
There was a patrolman washing his hands in the sink as Mulder entered, and as he dried his hands, he looked to Mulder, then to the geode, then to him again. Mulder tossed it in his palm and puffed a laugh through his nose. "Hell of a kidney stone, huh?"  
  
The patrolman laughed, the tension broken. "I'll say...you be careful with that thing." He headed for the door, still chuckling, taking one more look at Mulder before leaving.  
  
After the door thumped shut, Mulder locked the door, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief, wrapping it around the geode in the style of a hobo's bundle. He hefted it experimentally, the geode dangling below his hand, and nodded. *It's not a sock, but it'll do.* He paused for a moment, then swung his arm hard, cracking the geode against the tile wall.  
  
*CRACK!* The sound echoed loudly in the bathroom, and Mulder winced, praying that nobody would think it a gunshot. When a minute's rest didn't bring anyone pounding on the door, he untied the handkerchief and looked inside.  
  
Amethyst crystals glittered within, just as he remembered, and he reached in and picked up one of the shards....  
  
He felt a roaring in his ears, and he clutched at the edge of the sink as the room seemed to spin around him. A chill skittered up his spine and the hairs on his arms crawled, then settled again. He opened his hand, which had clenched into a fist at the wave of disorientation, and stared at the shard of amethyst, gleaming mutely in the fluorescent light. *What the hell was that?*  
  
The crystals offered no answer....but he knew someone who would.  
  
He pocketed the rest of the fragments of the geode and unlocked the door, heading back toward the holding area. He noted in passing that the patrolman he'd met was back at his desk watching him, and he wondered if he looked that *tall* when he saw him a minute ago. He pushed that thought aside as he descended the steps, and as he reached Melissa's cell he was ready for her explanation, whatever it may be.  
  
She had returned to the cot, and was waiting for him, one hand scratching the base of one of her horns. Her tears had--  
  
Horns?  
  
She shifted in place as he stared at the slender horns, curling back from just behind her hairline to skim the ends of her short hair. She slid off the cot again, her hooves clipping dully on the concrete floor.  
  
Hooves?  
  
He felt his jaw drop as he saw she had rolled up her jeans to reveal coarsely furred legs, bent backward, as a goat's, ending in small cloven hooves. His mind reeled, and he staggered back to sit heavily on the bench, his legs unable to support his weight *and* what he was seeing. She regarded him with gentle eyes.  
  
"Now do you believe?" 


	4. Some Enchanted Evening 4

"Now do you believe?"  
  
He tried to reply, but his mouth had gone completely dry, managing only a raspy "What...?"  
  
Her smile was sympathetic. "There are a lot of ways to answer that question....all of them are true and none of them are accurate." She clipped back over to the cot; Mulder watched her hooves, incredulous, as she sat down again, arranging her haunches so they were under her. "Are you familiar with mythology, legendry...fairy tales?"  
  
He nodded, still trying to find his voice.  
  
"Well, if you kind of mash them all together, that *begins* to describe what we are....."  
  
"The Devil," He blurted, and her sympathy turned to ice.  
  
"No. I am NOT the Devil, Agent Mulder. It's that kind of thinking that forced us to hide the way we do." She looked away for a moment, her lip curled in disgust, horns gleaming as she turned her head. "We're not the devil, and we're not demons.....the closest you could understand is that we're fairies. Well, half-fairies."  
  
Mulder's brain had stopped jibbering at him, and he finally found his voice. "Why didn't I see it...?"  
  
She sighed. "Because the world doesn't believe in fairies anymore, or fairy tales, for that matter. They think that if their laundry is stolen off the line, it was some street kid, not a fairy prank." She gave a weak chuckle. "They think that the socks they lose out of the dryer are still in their house somewhere. But they believe in their next paycheck, or their next mouthful of food, or their next case." She nodded to him, a wry twist to her lips. "There's no room in that for fairies, or even Dreams.  
  
"The weight of that disbelief would crush us if we revealed ourselves, but mortal souls can bear it easily. Heck, they deal with it every day of their lives." She shrugged, raising her hands palms up. "So, we trade...our souls take refuge within their bodies, and in return we awaken them, let them see through our eyes that Dreams still have power, as long as they believe in them." She "weighed" the options, one hand dipping lower than the other. "Not necessarily an even trade, but one we can live with."  
  
He nodded, his composure and curiosity trickling back slowly. "So you share a body with Melissa...is that even your name?"  
  
"Oh yeah. I was Melissa for sixteen years until all this. Some people are born with a Fae soul within them that lies dormant until just the right moment, when they're ready for the memories of what it was to be one of us. Then the Fae soul surfaces, floods them with power, and the memory of the soul that has now awakened. I'm still Melissa, and the soul within me has another name, but among the Fae my chosen name is Moonshadow." She smiled a bit. "I've always been a Cat Stevens fan."  
  
He laughed, a genuine laugh this time. "Right...of course...Moonshadow." He stared another minute, waiting for his brain to slow down. "So you're what, a faun?"  
  
Her smile widened, and she gave a chuckle of surprise. "Close, and a good guess." Her expression grew serious. "But that's more than enough show and tell for me. Your turn." She shifted, rolling up onto her hocks/knees. "Why are you after Aidan? Did he really rape someone, or were you using that to scare me?"  
  
The question broke through his astonishment, and he brought himself back to the business at hand. "The girl claims that he met her at a party, got her drunk and had intercourse with her. She's seventeen, so, according to the law, it adds up to date rape." He paused. "This guy...he's one of you?"  
  
She glared at him. "Of course! You think I'd be facing all this for a *mortal* scumbag?" She huffed a sigh crossing her arms over her chest. "He may be a scumbag, but he's *ours* to deal with." She got to her feet again, tugging her shirt back down over her hips. "You can fill me in on the details while we're driving."  
  
"Driving?" Mulder blinked at her sudden change in demeanor. *What the hell?*  
  
"Yes, driving. We have to get back to campus." She gave him a considering look. "Maybe you'd better let me drive. I'm probably more used to seeing the things we'll see on the road."  
  
*Now* things were getting out of hand. "Whoa, wait a minute, we're not going anywhere. We have to get a statement from you about the two goons that attacked you, we have to--"  
  
"No statement needed. I'm not pressing charges, and neither is Aidan."  
  
"But--"  
  
"And unless you're planning to charge me with everything you said before, I believe I'm free to go...?" She folded her arms once again, one cloven hoof pawing softly at the floor.  
  
*If she had a foot* he thought crazily, *it would be tapping.* He opened his mouth, not knowing exactly what he was going to say, and she touched her fingers to his lips. Her voice was soft as she spoke, her gaze plaintive.  
  
"Agent Mulder, we both want the same thing; to see Aidan face justice. We just can't let it be mortal justice, and if you keep trying to make it that way, it will never be over for you. If you truly want to see resolution to this, then you'll come with me now."  
  
This was slipping out of his control, too fast....he said the one thing that he thought would bring things back towards his level. "Scully...."  
  
She only smiled. "She'll be joining us on campus, if my one phonecall gets the results I'm hoping for. " She stepped back, slipping her hands into her pockets. "Now go make the arrangements. We've lost too much time already."  
  
He hesitated only a second longer before turning for the stairs.  
  
**********  
  
Scully leaned back against the cool white wall, passing one hand over her eyes. The radio at the nurses' station played easy listening. Someone paged Dr. Stanton or Canton or someone; she was too tired to care.  
  
At least her suspicions had been correct. The gun-toting thug, one Joseph Pellitta, had a concussion resulting from the head-on collision with a dumpster that she had heard rather than seen. They were keeping him overnight for observation, and the local P.D. was on guard for any attempted escape before questioning. The only thing to do was wait. Wait until Mulder was finished questioning Melissa, until they'd found their suspected rapist, until Mr. Pellitta regained consciousness enough to confess his involvement with Reverend Canfield.  
  
Scully didn't want to wait. She wanted to wrap this case up and get the hell out of California, where she didn't have to worry about the Dana Scully she had been so many years ago. Once they were away from here, Mulder wouldn't press her for details, he never would. He understood why people were guarded when asked about their past.  
  
*Maybe that's why you feel comfortable with him, hm? You never have to reveal anything about yourself and he'll still respect you, still care for you.*  
  
*Shut up* she told herself. *I'm a different person now. He doesn't have to know about who I was back then. It's not me anymore.*  
  
*He never had to tell you anything about himself, but he did. You know him inside out, Dana, and he doesn't know half of what he deserves.*  
  
She gritted her teeth, banging her head softly back against the wall. *Enough! Right now I just need sleep, and in the morning it'll be better.*  
  
A familiar refrain reached her ears from the nurses' station, and she squeezed her eyes shut further.  
  
"I can see clearly now, the rain is gone..."  
  
Oh, she thought she knew everything back then. Ready to take on the world single-handedly.  
  
"I can see all obstacles in my way..."  
  
Bill. Charlie. Dad. All the people who expected so much from her, but only on their terms. Even now she could still see it in Bill's eyes whenever she disagreed with him.  
  
"Gone were the dark clouds that had me blind..."  
  
What a fool she had been, letting idealism blind her to her goals, goals that she had since achieved, along with a resolve that wouldn't be shaken.  
  
"Gonna be a bright, bright Sunshiny Day..."  
  
Her eyes snapped open and she gave a little gasp as a husky, familiar voice sang the words into her ear. She looked to her right, feeling her heart pounding so hard she thought it might leap from her chest.  
  
His blue eyes had telltale wrinkles around them, and his gaze held more wisdom than idealism, but the lopsided grin, the aura of restrained passion that surrounded him was the same as she remembered.  
  
"Loren....." 


	5. Some Enchanted Evening 5

His blue eyes had telltale wrinkles around them, and his gaze held more wisdom than idealism, but the lopsided grin, the aura of restrained passion that surrounded him was just as she remembered.   
  
"Loren...."  
  
He leaned against the wall next to her. "Long time no see, Day....you look beautiful." He smiled. "But then, you always did."  
  
She still hadn't found coherence. "How...?"  
  
"Do you still like Hawaiian pizza? I know a great place just down the street." He held out his hand as if she hadn't spoken, as if ten years of life didn't separate then from now. "We can catch up a bit, and maybe I can help you with your search for the young man."  
  
Despite her shock, she felt herself reaching for him as if it hadn't been ten years since she'd seen him, touched him....she jerked her hand back. "How did you know I was here?" What was he doing here?  
  
His smile didn't waver, but he withdrew his hand, slipping it into his jacket pocket. "Moonshadow called me from the police station and told me where you were." He chuckled. "Imagine my surprise when I found out who'd come to town." He glanced down the hall, then back to her. "Come on, let's go eat. Your patient is well-guarded, and this isn't the place for us to talk."  
  
Her mind stopped it's crazy reeling long enough for her to blurt out the first excuse for her not to deal with this. "Mulder...I have to--"  
  
"We'll both go see Mulder soon," he said, interrupting gently, "But before we do, you have to hear what I have to say." His expression grew serious. "There are things you have to understand. Your case depends on it."  
  
"What do you know about this case?" What could he possibly know about it?   
  
"Please come with me, Dana....please, you have to come if you want to understand, if you want to see young Aidan face justice for what he's done." His voice had an earnest, pleading tone this time. "If you don't come with me now, it will never be over for you."   
  
He met her gaze, and she knew he could still see the shock at seeing him, mingled with suspicion at his knowledge of what had happened. How did he know what happened? How could he expect that she'd follow him into a possible trap? How could she feel herself wanting to trust him after six years of ingrained wariness of anyone offering help?  
  
He sighed, his expression of gentle urgency fading to resignation. "I'm sorry....I wish I could help you see past your suspicion. I suppose you've changed more than I'd expected." He withdrew his hand from his pocket and dangled a friendship bracelet from his fingers. "Here...I made it when I found out you'd come to visit." The woven threads were deep green on green, and were patterned in a line of diamonds. "A gift, if you like, for times remembered."  
  
She reached for it slowly, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks as memories struggled to resurface. She pushed them back hard; she had to try and explain. "Loren, you have to understand--"  
  
As she touched the bracelet, she felt a plunge, as if the floor had suddenly dropped away from her. She flailed out for something, anything to hold onto, and two strong hands caught her, held her tightly, held her steady. Soft voice in her ear. "You always did have to see to believe, didn't you?"  
  
She looked up into his face, saw those merry blue eyes, the amusement of his smile, the horns jutting from his curly hair....and fainted dead away.  
  
**********  
  
Mulder was glad that he'd let Moonshadow drive.  
  
Not only did she weave in and out of traffic with the confidence of a local, but she was right on the money when she said she would be more used to what they would see on the road. When a group of bikers roared up beside the sedan, and the leader of the pack turned and glared through the window, he'd nearly jumped out at the sight of him. A huge, shark-toothed maw jutted out from the grey mottled face, deep-set yellow eyes glinting within. He'd swerved the motorcycle towards the car, and she'd just laughed and eased over to let them by.  
  
"That's Grudge and his gang...you should see me when I'm in the wagon." She grinned for a moment. "I would have given him a run for his money."  
  
Mulder just nodded and watched the bikers rumble off ahead of them. She glanced at him with a smile. "You seem to be taking this rather well, or am I just not noticing you're catatonic?"  
  
He gave a little half-laugh that seemed to mollify her, and he was able to turn his mind inward, away from what was just outside the car windows. He couldn't look at it for long, the brighter colors, the one-step-removed feeling to it all, without feeling dizzy and disoriented. "Just stay cool," she'd said as they walked through the police station. "Nobody else can see what you're seeing, so just act natural."   
  
Sure, act natural when the patrolman that he'd seen in the bathroom now towered above him, his skin a sky blue and small ridged horns protruding from his forehead. When the patrolman grinned, and he saw teeth that looked more at home in a wolf than a cop, he barely managed to make it out of there without bolting as if the devil himself was after him.  
  
He gave another crazy little laugh. Not the devil, remember?  
  
Moonshadow kept her eyes on the road as she wove the car around cars, horses and machines he couldn't even name. "When we get back to campus, you can't say anything. You will speak when you're spoken to, and that's it." She cut over to the right and made a quick turn onto the campus thoroughfare. "You and Dana shouldn't even be a part of this, but it can't be helped."   
  
His curiosity finally overcame his confusion. "A part of what? What's back at campus?"   
  
She pulled into an empty space; Mulder noted that it was the same space where he and Scully had parked when they'd first met her She killed the motor, her lips pressed into a tight line. Her voice was soft as she spoke. "A tribunal. Please don't ask me anything more. Just remember what I told you *and remember your Oath*. Do you understand?" The last was said with familiar urgency, and as if by magic he heard the words he swore to her back in the lockup.   
  
"I swear that I'll listen, I'll hear you out, and I'll help in any way I can to see justice served..."   
  
The sound of the car door brought him back to reality. *Well, relative reality* he thought as he got out, then quickened his pace to follow the girl. She led him across the quad, past an old gazebo that seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, and into a wooded area beyond.   
  
Mulder was amazed at the change in the small wood since he last saw it. Where it had been just a small thicket of half-dead trees, it was now a lush expanse of green. What he thought were fireflies flickered in and out among the trees, until a tiny winged woman swooped and giggled in his face. He couldn't help but laugh at the...insect? Pixie?...and the wind of his laughter swept her away. He looked back to see Moonshadow smiling up at him.   
  
"You really do believe," she said, and he laughed again. How could he not believe when it was right before his eyes? He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when she paused outside an arch of greenery from which a faint golden light shone in the darkness. Her smile faded to seriousness, and when she spoke, her voice was somber and heavy.   
  
"What you are about to see has nothing to do with the world of Man, and as such I must ask that you remain silent unless spoken to, and to treat this tribunal with the respect due to the highest court of the mortal world." She met his eyes. "Will you do so?"   
  
He looked into her eyes and found that words had left him, his mouth dry. He nodded silently, and she took his hand and led him through the arch. 


End file.
